


Break Me To Small Parts

by Evoket



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, hannibal has solutions, kitchen blowjobs, will is cranky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoket/pseuds/Evoket
Summary: Will comes home angry from teaching at Quantico. Hannibal relaxes him.





	Break Me To Small Parts

The irritation radiates from him the full drive from Quantico to Baltimore. End of term papers riddled with errors, stupid mistakes, no real intelligence behind the words, no efforts to understand, to see.

“I am so goddamned tired,” Will says as he comes in, “of these bullshit thesis statements.” He drops his bag with a crash onto the hardwood flooring by the front door, then sets to angrily removing his coat.

“‘Hi honey, I’m home?’” Hannibal quips from the kitchen. “I take it class did not go well today?”

Will stomps his way into the kitchen, staring down the floor with a vengeance. “I swear, I’m going to fail every single one of them.”

“That may be a bit rash,” Hannibal says smoothly, putting the lamb -- “lamb” -- gently in the oven. His shirt is rolled up to the elbows, leaving his forearms bare, and there’s a fine glimmer of sweat that catches the white lights. “May I suggest something to calm you down?”

“I don’t need therapy from my boyfriend,” Will mutters.

“I wasn’t thinking of therapy,” Hannibal says, and takes a step towards him.

Will drags his gaze from Hannibal’s feet up to where the hem of his apron falls -- he looks good in an apron, looks strong and capable, more a butcher than a cook -- the thought falls unbidden into his head but is quickly ushered out by the muscle prominent in his arms, and Will’s eyes rake up to his hair, loose, no pomade --

And finally Will looks at Hannibal in the face and he sees something feral, and clever, and hungry.

He swallows.

“I mean,” he gestures awkwardly, his rage forgotten and dissipating, and takes a step back towards the countertop, and Hannibal stalks him like an animal stalking its prey, “It’s not like you need permission. We’ve been over that.” His eyes briefly meet Hannibal’s, whose mouth curls up into a dark smile. He looks down again, arms braced against the granite.

“That we have, dear Will,” Hannibal says. He stays a foot away, still not touching Will, knowing this is what he needs to take his mind off of Quantico and hopefully save those poor students’ grades. He likes the way Will acts in afterglow. More forgiving, pliable, lenient. Easier to manipulate. To bend as he pleases.

“I, ah….” Will pauses, then says hastily, before his mind can get the better of him, “How do you want me?”

“Precisely so,” Hannibal murmurs, and quickly, gracefully sinks to his knees, fingers nimbly undoing Will’s belt and buttons, pulling his pants down to his thighs. Will is wearing the tight, thin briefs Hannibal purchased for him once on a whim. It makes him smile.

Will already has his head tipped back, eyes closed, adam’s apple bobbing near convulsively. This, Hannibal thinks, is something he will never tire of: the ability to undo him so quickly, with just the slightest of touches, the softest of breaths. He gently runs his lips over Will’s cock through his briefs, and Will’s already hard like some kind of teenager. This, too, he will never tire of. Will’s endless responsiveness, his touch-starved body responding instantly, desperately, to any kind of contact.

“Please, Hannibal,” Will says, still not looking at Hannibal, as though the sight of the man on his knees alone would be enough to send him reeling. “Please, I -- I want it so much --”

“Such a rude boy,” Hannibal chides gently, fingertips outlining Will’s cock, hard but not as hard as it will be soon. “Coming home to throw a tantrum, not so much as a greeting.”

“I’m sorry,” Will pants, and his hands find their way to his briefs so he can yank them down, which Hannibal graciously allows him to do without even so much as a reprimand. He glances down to see Hannibal wrap his fingers around his freed cock, then slowly begin to stroke it. Will thinks he might die right on the spot.

“Making me do such filthy things in my kitchen,” Hannibal says, and with that he sucks the tip of Will’s dick into his mouth, releasing it just as suddenly. Will could cry.

“God, Hannibal,” he says instead, and reaches down to grab his dick, but quick as the devil Hannibal has snatched his wrist and pinned it back against the cupboard.

Hannibal looks up at him cooly. “If you continue to be so rude, you may find yourself suffering more than you had anticipated.”

Will nods mutely, trying to remember all the rules to this game. He is allowed to touch himself, but only with permission. And he didn’t ask permission.

He clears his throat and says, “Please -- may I please --”

“No,” Hannibal says, and takes Will’s entire length into his mouth at once. Will’s knees buckle, and Hannibal releases his wrist so he can forcibly press both his hands into Will’s hips, pinning him against the cupboards and the counter. Will tries to buck his hips but can’t; Hannibal’s stronger than him, and the fact of being pinned down and taken makes his cock swell even more in Hannibal’s mouth.

Hannibal sucks consistently, quickly, occasionally digging his nails into Will’s skin, and Will cums with a cry, still fruitlessly trying to thrust into his throat. He feels Hannibal swallow his cum down, and can almost taste the satisfaction in his smile as he pulls Will’s briefs back up, diligently does up his pants.

“Better?” he murmurs into Will’s ear when he stands again. Will responds with a shaky kiss, still jittery from being so thoroughly spent, and the earnestness behind it is endearing.

“Go look through those papers again,” Hannibal says gently. “See if there isn’t something worth appreciating.”

“Doubt it,” Will responds, looking loathe to leave this contact. Hannibal presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” he says. “And then, dear Will, I have a few more plans for you this evening.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Ode to Divorce" by Regina Spektor (very good)
> 
> I've never written a fanfic before so please comment and let me know if you like it!!


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